


Tobi's Tale

by SeverNSkull



Category: Naruto
Genre: Fix-It, Interview with a Psycho, Story Time!!!, The Akatsuki Really Want To Know, Time Travel, Tobi is a dork, sweet tooth, the Akatsuki are alive, who is this guy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-14 10:14:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8009725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeverNSkull/pseuds/SeverNSkull
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Konan is curious about the identity of the masked man, just as everyone else in the Akatsuki. When Tobi offers to tell her, she decides to listen but his story doesn't make sense. It's absolutely crazy. She sees his face but still has no idea who the man is, just a fragment of his past -- a future that never existed in their world. Why not? She'll find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. So the Story Begins

“You said you had a story for me; I’d like to hear it,” the woman said standing in the doorway to the kitchen, looking at the masked man who seemed quite at home with rummaging through cupboard after cupboard. The masked man turned to the blue-haired kunoichi for a moment and if you squinted your eyes just right and added a little bit of imagination, you could just see his eyebrow quirking in amusement. “Ah, yes. I did, didn’t I?”

“Tobi, I’d like to hear it. Whenever you’re ready to tell me,” the woman asked softly, watching the masked man turn to rummage through the cupboards once more until he stopped on one.

“Ah! Bingo!” He retrieved a shiny blue canister, decorated with traditional birds and flowers. He lifted the orange mask and sniffed the contents of the tin, letting out a content sigh and bringing it over to the stove with the teapot that had been sitting on the counter. He didn’t say anything else until he had the kettle heating on the stove, the burner casting a blue lighting into the dark room that was previous only lit by the hallway light.

The masked man leaned back against the countertop and supported himself with his arms. “Ah… sorry. I think this calls for some tea first,” he apologized to the woman. “I’ll start off in just a few minutes. Heh! Um, Konan-kun, you wouldn’t like some too, would you? It’s a _long story_!”

“I don’t mind, Tobi. I have time. I’m seldom able to sleep anymore,” she responded to his comment about his story, but with a small smile she added, “But yes. I would like a cup of tea.”

“Alright then!” Tobi, the orange-masked man lifted up his hand from the counter and shot the woman a thumbs up, his smile practically showing from under his mask.

 

* * *

 

 

A few minutes of waiting later and Tobi and Konan were seated in what could be the dining area across from each other, steaming cups of tea in front of them and Konan intently watching and listening for the other shinobi to begin his tale.

Tobi was quiet for a moment and hummed to himself, considering his next move. After some deliberation, he put his hands behind his head to fumble with his mask. “In light of what I’m about to tell you, I won’t need this mask any longer. However, don’t be too surprised when you see the face behind it,” he warned before removing the hideous swirled-pattern from his face and setting it on the table beside his teacup.

Konan’s eyes lit up in shock and there was a pause as she could say nothing to the sight before her. Her mouth had dropped slightly and the previously masked man waited out the shock and took a sip of his tea. He his and pulled it away, setting it down on his saucer. “Ow. That’s still too hot,” he grumbled to himself. The kunoichi pulled herself together and stated the obvious to the shinobi before her, “You are not Uchiha Madara.”

The shinobi moved the teacup meticulously until it lined up with the saucer perfectly. “No. I am not Madara. I'm sorry that I had lied to you and Nagato, but I was under 'his' influence, regardless of the circumstances,” the dark-haired shinobi said soberly. His dark eyes cast down onto the teacup before him as he fiddled with the exact spot the saucer should be in now.

“I’d much rather know who you are and hear your tale,” the woman said. Every trace of surprise was now locked away and concealed once more as if it had never happened, but her looks also foretold that her body was poised and ready to strike like at any moment now. “However, I suppose I now know for certain that you are an Uchiha.”

The man looked up and met her eyes and nodded briefly in confirmation. “I am.”

“Continue your story then, _Uchiha_. But be aware that as soon as I had encountered you, I sent out a fail-safe,” the seasoned kunoichi stated. “If you are to harm me during your tale, the rest of the Akatsuki will immediately respond. Mind yourself, Uchiha.”

The shinobi smiled at her and the scars on the right side of his face crinkled with his expression. “Honestly, I’d expect nothing less,” he said calmly, with something akin to relief, becoming more and more peculiar and even more dangerous in the kunoichi’s eyes. “I guess I’ll begin now that we’ve got that aside. It started many years ago, when you and I were both young shinobi, but nonetheless, I’ll begin at the end.”

Konan raised an eyebrow. “That’s a strange way to begin a story,” she commented, her curiosity becoming hungrier for answers about the strange – often comical – shinobi.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, his laugh rumbling through the rest of his body, “I suppose it is, for most people, but I’m not most people and the best way to begin my story is from the end, because the end of that story, is the beginning of mine.” At that moment, the smile was whisked away from his face and he adopted an expression of stone.

“I had become a terrible man,” the scarred shinobi began. “I had begun a war that spanned across every nation on this world and I had claimed it was all in the name of ‘peace’. I had been a fool because of it. My idea of peace was death to any who opposed my beliefs – no, _Madara’s beliefs_. Not mine, yet somehow they had become mine.” The Uchiha picked up his teacup stonily and took a sip, his expression showing delight close to the surface and he hummed. “This tea is amazing. I may have to hoard it to myself,” he chuckled, bemused by his own voiced thoughts on the contents of the cup.

Konan was annoyed at his change of subject, being more than willingly curious to find the mysterious Uchiha’s origins. She chewed over for a moment what he had said and became increasingly puzzled. To her knowledge, there hadn’t been a war in years, either through the Five Great Nations nor through her own country of Amegakure. What did Tobi mean by an international war?

“Um… sorry,” he murmured and cleared his voice after setting down the teacup once again. “Now, as I had stated before, I had been under Madara’s control and tricked into carrying out his dirty work, all for a higher purpose, and to reanimate _him_ , the epitome of evil, with a lust for power.”

“But Madara is long dead,” Konan cut in before Tobi could spout any more of the ridiculous story. “How could he possibly control you? How could you reanimate him?” She glared at the Uchiha who looked a little taken aback and nervous.

“Heh heh… all in good time, Konan-kun,” he said, rubbing the back of his head, nervously before making a disgusted face, probably directed inwardly at himself at this point and threaded his fingers through his hair, running them through his dark spikes until he settled his hands back into his lap.

“Madara, was not… exactly… dead. He died, yes, um… twice at that point, but three times,” he stated, trying to comfort her and vaguely answer her question. “In the battle with Hashirama, he had died in combat but used his dojutsu to change his death and replace his body with a clone, hence, no one had ever ‘found the body’. It was also sealed and protected so no one could try to obtain any of his powers, but alas, Madara found a way.

“I was a tool for him to gain eternal life and create a new world, it was evident. He turned me against my village, my sensei, and my only friend,” the Uchiha said frowning. “After that, I had succumbed to Madara’s grand curse, the Uchiha’s grand curse and legacy of hatred. I eventually betrayed him after a fight with the only person that I had left that nearly killed both of us and…” The Uchiha’s hands trembled slightly and he reached for his teacup to take another sip, the hideous green color almost soothing to look at as the tea continued to steam during the gradually heating story.

The Uchiha was silent too long. “What did you do, Tobi? What happened? How’d you defeat Madara?”

The scarred man huffed and set the teacup down, adjusting it on the saucer once more. “I didn’t defeat him, but I could have if I had wanted to. No, I didn’t defeat him. I became a jinchuuriki to a beast of unfathomable strength, the Juubi, and I became no longer myself.” There was a darkness emanating from him at that, like a soldier reliving his deepest, darkest traumas and the horrid things they had experienced in times of war. 

Konan as once again shocked that evening and then disappointment engulfed her. It was just a story. A fairy tale. He was just trying to amuse her with a story of an evil madman, a monster, and a corrupt anti-hero. She raised herself from her cushion and looked down upon the man. “I’m sorry, but none of what you’re saying is real. It’s nothing but a lie meant to pass the time and amuse yourself and cover for your own self-loathing and the true reason you wear that mask; cowardice,” Konan stated brashly. “You are a fake. There's no way  _any_ of your story is true."

The scarred man watched her calmly and observed her, gauging her frustrations. “I am a coward, yes, I’ll admit it, but like I had said, this is the end of a story, which this story’s beginning. Everything I am telling you is not a lie but a possibility – a future that never happened all because of a boy who believed in the good of people, while they believed that there was nothing left, and his friends; and my only friend. So please, I implore you to listen to the rest of my tale before you make the decision on whether I am a fraud or not.” His gaze was unwavering and honest, begging Konan to believe him. He made every gesture of a man who believed in the words that he spoke.

The kunoichi sighed in resignation and sat before him, intending to finish listening to the story after hearing the scarred man’s confession. “I guess you can continue,” she said, pushing back her hair behind her ear and then cupping the teacup in her hands, embracing its warmth.

The man smiled at Konan and nodded a small bow towards her, “Thank you, Konan-san.” He chuckled a little and continued, his eyes crinkling with amusement, “I had about the same problem telling my good friend this same story." He brightened considerably at his mention of this friend, endearing that much more.

“And what was her reaction,” Konan asked, taking a sip of the tea, her eyes widening at the taste, and immediately set it down. “That’s a little… _sweet_.”

“Ah… sorry! I have a bit of a sweet tooth, my apologies, Konan-kun,” he belted out nervously rubbing the back of his before turning away and blushing, “Oh and… my friend… you see, is a guy.”

Konan was taken slightly aback. “Oh. Sorry. It sounded like there was some kind of romantic tension of some kind between you, so I assumed it was a woman.”

Obito blanched and snarled, “I’d never have a romantic THING for _Bakakashi_!” He crossed his arms angrily and huffed, glaring daggers at the kunoichi from across the table. His face was flushed, whether that was from embarrassment or being enamored by the mention of his friend, _Bakakashi_ – although Konan suspected that that was not the man’s name – she may never know now.

The scarred man calmed down after a few minutes, but his cheeks were still tinged with pink. His gaze fell upon the wall clock which had been ticking quietly on the wall. He took a deep breath and sighed, most of the color gone now. “We’ll have to wrap it up for the night,” he said before he yawned quietly behind a gloved hand.

“Hm? Why’s that,” Konan asked, disappointed now that the man had got her once again interested in his tale.

“It’s very late, er, early, and the last thing I want to do is lose my air of mystery, he said, tapping the side of his face and grinning at the kunoichi.

“If your story is true, or even if it isn’t, I don’t think anyone will recognize you,” Konan stated simply, pushing the teacup away from her subtly.

“Oh, I can recall at least one member that will, but on the contrary, even if they don’t, I’d rather not it be Hidan catch me and start bragging about it or using his demented vocabulary to harass me for my battle scars,” he said with disgust and a shudder. Konan’s lip curled in disgust. _Hidan…_

“Anyhow,” the scarred man continued, with a gentle grin, “I’m going to clean up and go to sleep. Busy day tomorrow.” He stood from the cushion and stretched, his lithe muscles showing beneath his black long-sleeved shirt before he took his own teacup and drained it. “Delicious! That really hit the spot!” Tobi came around and took Konan’s hardly touched tea as well, careful not to clang the glass dishes. Unusual. Most of the Akatsuki either expected maids to clean up after them or only cleaned up after themselves. Tobi was different. He had manners, but the worst psychopaths did after all.

“You ought to go to sleep too, Konan-kun,” he said, as he headed into the kitchen to get the dishes cleaned. “You probably have a busy day ahead too. I guess that’d be ‘ _paper work_ ’!” He laughed heartily and watched for her reaction.

Konan scowled at him and frowned in annoyance. There had to be no way he was telling the truth about this story. He was too immature, however, he still seemed sincere. She got up from the cushion and nodded to Tobi who nodded back, surprised that she’d still be as polite towards him, “Thank you for the tea, Uchiha-san.”

Tobi’s brows went up and he looked slightly put out, “Ah, don’t call me that. Just _Tobi_. Tobi is just fine for now.” He ended that with another smile. He was quite sunny and cheerful for someone who claimed to have been a jinchuuriki for a made-up monster and started a fourth war that Konan had never heard of. Most shinobi from prominent clans always used their clan names but like she had observed many times before, Tobi was different. He greatly differed from his supposed cousin who also resided in the Akatsuki group, Itachi Uchiha.

“If you don’t want to be called ‘Uchiha’, what is your real name, ‘ _Tobi_ ’,” she asked, hoping to appease her curiosity temporarily with a name in which to recall.

The levels of charisma in his grin had somehow enhanced and he simply said, “Well, I guess you’ll have to find out tomorrow night if you’re still willing to listen! Good night, Konan-kun!”

She internally groaned and murmured back a return of the sentiment and went off to her own quarters to sleep. She didn’t rest much as she lay there for a while considering who the masked man, Tobi, really was and going over the entirety of the story, looking for anything that might clue her off without have someone discover who he was before her. Tomorrow. She just had to wait until tomorrow.


	2. I Don't Deserve This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobi decides to continue his story from the previous night.

I roused groggily into a new, sunless world and opened my eyes. I had thought that I had given them to my friend, but somehow, this felt different. I had both eyes and I sensed that I wasn’t of the mortal realm anymore. Was the Infinite Tsukuyomi completed? For everyone’s sake I hoped not, but if it was, I wouldn’t be able to remember that being so; I’d probably be stuck in a dream with Minato-sensei, Kakashi, and Rin – my team. I was momentarily comforted by that, but I still felt a sense of dread sinking to the pit of my belly. This world wasn’t ‘ _right_ ’, but there was something else, comforting and wise that seemed to flow from this space between spaces.

I pulled myself up and staggered to my feet, carefully observing this new world. I didn’t feel any pain or numbness coming from my grievously wounded body and furthermore, the wounds had dispelled into nothingness. I couldn’t help but believe I was dead, it only seemed logical, but Rin and Minato-sensei were missing and I didn’t approve too highly of the color scheme if it was the afterlife.

I sensed an enormous presence pour into existence just behind me. Goosebumps prickled over my skin, every hair stood on end, and I immediately prepared for an attack. It was similar to the goddess, Kaguya, which I had fought alongside my comrade – my best friend – and his three students.

The presence didn’t advance or lash out upon its arrival, so very slowly I turned towards the newcomer and was met with the majestic appearance of one of the most powerful shinobi to ever live, the Sage of Six Paths, just as my comrade’s students had said.

The old man levitated with a level of calm and confidence that few shinobi I knew could ever achieve. His purple eyes, Rinnegan, were trained on me, filled with eons of wisdom and experience. The fight and alarm within me melted away. In no way did I ever think that the elderly god meant to harm me or my companions who carried on against Kaguya. I was intrigued with what the god was here for, or what he had brought me there for.

“Obito,” he acknowledged, continuing to eye me as one would an opponent, sizing up a strategy. “You did well and in the end, you protected your friend and companions whom were previously your enemy.”

Guilt welled in my chest at the mention. Rin’s death, Minato-sensei’s death, Kushina’s death, Sasuke’s rage, Madara’s resurrection, the deaths of countless other shinobi, and ultimately the resurrection of the Infinite Tsukuyomi and the goddess, Kaguya.

“You helped seal away Kaguya and sacrificed your life for deep-rooted friendship and beliefs,” he remarked, “beliefs and friendships that only came to light with Naruto’s guidance.”

A pregnant silence fell between us as the guilt began to gnarl against my insides and ache. Maybe I wasn’t so ‘ _dead_ ’ after all? I couldn’t find any words to say, but I knew that I was a traitor and that everything I did in my own twisted confusion was a way to save the girl I had loved and stop a terrible truth from being.

“Obito, I have seen the way you treasure your friendship and strive to pull them and yourself forward through your determination, regardless of your inner conflicts,” the god stepped onto the ground of the dark realm and held his shakujo tightly. “However, whether you had fallen prey to Madara and the Black Zetsu or not, Kaguya would have reemerged regardless.”

It was surreal how close I was to the god. I felt the need to put as much space between us as possible, but I was frozen to the spot, captivated by his presence and weighed down by the growing guilt and anxiety.

“Obito, you were brave and you became a hero, but I believe you still have ambitions as to what you could have achieved had you not been caught in the plot to ultimately resurrect my mother,” he assessed, and yes, it was true. In my mind, I could see myself as the first Uchiha Hokage, with Kakashi advising by my side. I could surely hear Naruto and Sakura bickering and fighting as there was no doubt Sasuke avoiding the spar with his stoic coolness. I could smell the nostalgic flavors and scents of my home village – the dango shop close to the Hokage building, the breeze through the woods, and the smell of spice and fragrance vendors that kept their businesses to the limits of the Konohagakure gates – and I missed it. I lost it all. I could no longer see the smiling faces of my friends, the monument of the previous Hokages as basis for my dreams as I used to admire it, dreaming of my own face carved into it, and I’d never see the people I had watched over grow and embrace a world of peace, something I could have done without having followed Madara if I had become Hokage. But worst of all, I’d never see Rin, or Kakashi, or my sensei ever again. I destroyed and laid waste to everything and everyone around me.

I-I was not a hero, I wasn’t even close because only monsters do such terrible things and claim that it’s for the greater good. I wasn’t even myself anymore and I had only seen that near death.

“Monsters do not realize their wrongs, Obito,” the god answered, startling me because I was aware that I hadn’t spoken aloud, however, I wasn’t surprised. At that point, nothing was going to surprise me. “Realizing your wrongs is one of the most important teachings to learning to move forward and make a better future, that’s why I’m going to give you another chance at this life.”

My eyes widened in disbelief, “What?”

The Sage nodded. “Obito, the future has been written in this world and this war has been won, but your battle has not.”

I furrowed my brow and frowned at the god, apprehensive understanding dawning on me. How would I be able to not make the same mistakes and keep the ones I love from meeting the fates they had succumbed to?

“I’m willing to give you a chance to correct your mistakes and be with the people you loved before you made the wrong choice,” the Sage emphasized further.

I took a deep breath and lowered my gaze, exhibiting the same behavior my teammate had always reprimanded me for, and tears flowed freely down my face. “I’m sorry, but you got the wrong guy. I am Obito Uchiha, but I can’t change my past, because,” my lip quivered, a shaky breath came, and I wiped tears out of my grieving eyes, “I don’t want to make the wrong choice again and see my friends and companions die.

“I _can’t_ make the wrong choice again, old man!”

The Sage’s sharp, wise eyes were trained on me as though I was the most intriguing creature of this world, “Only someone that knows what they’ve done wrong can create the right future. I believe you are ready, _Obito_. It’s time to say good-bye once again.”

The god pointed past me with his shakujo, forcing me to turn and focus on the unending darkness and I must have blinked or shut my eyes, because when I opened my eyes again and found myself face-to-face with the girl I loved, and an airy world created by spirits and chakra swirling around us. Her young face was marred with a disappointed pout.

“You’re leaving again, aren’t you,” she asked, a young version of myself being the recipient. I knew then that the Sage was not letting me have a choice in this matter.

I nodded in affirmation. “Heh, yeah. I… forgot something else that I need to do,” I answered, making an excuse.

Rin gripped my hands tight, causing the cheeks of my adolescent avatar to blush a powdered pink. “Alright,” she sang softly and met eyes with me, her purity soothing the pain and guilt I felt deep within. “But promise you’ll be back, but not too soon!”

My emotions got the better of me and I sniffled again, my lip quivering, “Rin…”

“And don’t forget Obito, I’ll be watching you, and Kakashi,” my teammate assured me.

I threw myself at her in a hug and squeezed her tightly. “I’ll see you soon,” I whispered, not knowing whether that was true or not. We broke from the hug and I took a step back, finding the Sage beside me, waiting for my farewells to find a close. Whirls and patterns of blue chakra began to wrap around us and I watched as Rin waved as she began to fade from our view.

“Take care, Obito. Be safe,” she cried as she melted into the spirit world and away from view, but little did I know that that was the last time I’d hear her voice for at least two decades.

And that brings us to here, but at what cost?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's not longer. I would've had to write it over in some parts to add the third-person perspective and it looked fine as it was so I decided I'd just give it Tobi's narrative. I can't tell you how many times I just rewrote this entirely, but this seems fine since the Sage of Six Paths (since I'm too exhausted to remember how to spell) can communicate and interact with people through his death thanks to how powerful he was and his use of ninshu. I hope that's not disappointing. 
> 
> Well, enjoy and once again, it's unbeta'd so shoot me a comment if you see anything hinky!


	3. What's This In the Darkness?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Konan is back for part two and tracks down the mysterious masked man but is all as it seems? She didn't think so to begin with, but this is just too much!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo! I give you chapter three! There was a short delay as I had to redo a bit, but the outline and content of this chapter was inspired by the fabulous RabbitPie who beta'd the original third chapter.

It was late into the night as Konan began her search for the masked Uchiha. He wasn’t often difficult to find, since he constantly seemed to hop into existence right when no one wanted him. It was one of the laws of the universe, if you didn’t want Tobi around, he’d appear and completely ruin your day.

  
Konan silently navigated the base to the offices on the first floor. To be honest, she was rather impressed by all the renovations and utilities that Tobi had insisted they install once they had become a team. Konan hadn’t enjoyed the time-consuming process and the perversion of their funds, but it seemed to be for the better. They received more contracts, their paperwork was organized, and they were able to run a small country out of their office, even though originally Nagato had taken over by dictatorship, Amegakure was slowly advancing and becoming more efficient. Unlike years ago, people were slowly beginning to build their trust with their leaders and Konan’s eyes lit up when she saw children with their parents, playing despite the constant rain.

  
She rounded the corner of the stairs and went to the door a few feet away, seals and mysterious fuinjutsu covering the wooden panel. She entered into a pristine room lined with several desks and neat stacks of paperwork. The room was shrouded in darkness, but a light in one of the small offices to the side illuminated the workspace just enough to find the Uchiha filtering through stacks of paperwork.

  
The blue-haired kunoichi flew over to the door and peeked in. The Uchiha’s eyes were glazed over as he glanced at a report in front of him. “They never go away,” he grumbled, “every time I’ve ever finished, it’s become an invitation to give me more papers. No offense, Konan-kun.”

  
Konan narrowed her eyes at the Uchiha and entered the room, taking that as her own invitation, despite his rudeness and reference to her particular jutsu. She took a seat on the far side of the desk, looking past the papers to the unmasked, scarred man.

  
The Uchiha sat up and stretched, arms above his head, popping pesky bones back into place and relaxing his tense muscles as he let out a groan. “You won’t believe how trying it is to sit behind a desk all day! You know,” he rambled exasperatedly as he resettled in his chair, “I thought running around and fighting was exhausting, but this? This is truly painful.”

  
Konan raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow and asked the Uchiha the simplest and most troubling question, “Tobi, what are you doing down here anyways?”

  
The Uchiha grinned and chuckled nervously and began quickly shuffling through papers, stuffing what he had been looking over into a file folder. “Well, I was going through some paperwork and lost track of time. Nothing really important!” His face was flushed and he bit down on his lip, a shadow of obvious worry over him.

  
Konan felt that that had been one of the worst excuses she had ever heard. Her expression reflected her thoughts as she patiently waited for the truth, which all things into consideration, would likely not come.

  
The scarred Uchiha cleared his throat and straightened himself back in his seat and threaded his fingers together on the top of the desk. “So, Konan, did you want to hear the rest of my story,” he inquired, a small grin painting his visage with his eyes sparkling in dazzling mirth, clearly knowing that she had.

  
Konan only responded to his question with silence, growing annoyed with the Uchiha.

  
“Alrighty then,” Tobi cried happily, his grin increasing in brightness. “Where’d I leave off? Oh, right! Okay, Konan-kun! I’m ready.

  
“My friend and I fought during the war that I’d begun and it turned out that he had always believed in me and didn’t want me to die again. I betrayed him, then I became a monster, and died to protect my friend in the very end, knowing I was going to die anyhow. Why not save his ass one last time,” he chuckled.

  
“So anyways, I died. It was when I was dead that I decided to save Kakashi one last time and give him a gift: my Mangekyo Sharingan,” he explained, gesturing to his right eye. “I may not have accomplished my dream, but I knew Kakashi would for me and I still believe he can in this world.”

  
Konan knew that name. “Kakashi Hatake of the Sharingan? The son of the White Fang,” she asked, recalling her encounter with the copy-nin.

  
Tobi nodded, “Uh huh! The one and only, although I think he owes all that fame to me, whether he’s a genius or not since I gave him the Sharingan.” The scarred man crossed his arms in a cocky, aggravated posture and muttered grumpily.

  
Konan chuckled, “You can’t have everything. How’d you get another eye?”

  
He screwed up his face and feigned ignorance, his gaze floating off in another direction, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  
Konan wasn’t so sure about that and permitted herself to roll her own amber eyes at the Uchiha. She wasn’t altogether sure what made her stick around to hear the immature man’s oracle or tale, as it was.

  
“ _Anyways_ , it was then, after I gave Kakashi his gift that I met the guy himself,” he chirped loudly, as if Konan wasn’t about six feet away. He leaned over the desk and whispered dramatically, “The Sage of _Six Paths_!” He retreated to his chair and squealed happily, drastically changing the somber mood to utter chaos and ridiculousness. “I was so surprised when I met him and even more so that he gave me a mission!”

  
The Uchiha reverted back to a stony visage and locked eyes with Konan, “He wanted me to fix it – everything that I had done – so I could stop the Juubi’s resurrection and the _evil_ goddess of the God Tree, Kaguya.”

  
“Are you sure that this isn’t a fairy tale,” Konan whispered.

  
The Uchiha crossed his arms and huffed, “Haven’t you listened to my narrative? The Juubi is _real_. Madara is a _real_ threat. Hell,” he snapped at the kunoichi, “you and Nagato believed that _I_ was Madara!” He rearranged himself back in his chair, having ruffled Konan enough to put her on the defensive with his shouting. “I’ll tell you what Madara once told me, ‘legends are based on the truth.’ That being said, not every shadow in the dark and monster under the bed is our imagination – no. These are very real threats and they’ll do anything to bleed into the existence of this world. They’ll kill everyone you love and gnaw at you until you succumb to the darkness.”

  
“Say I do believe your story, how would the Juubi or Madara even become resurrected, or this Kaguya character,” Konan retorted, interrogating the Uchiha. “They can’t possibly impact us.”

  
The Uchiha sunk into his desk chair and rolled his shoulders, “I really hate these things. These chairs are murder on my back! Um, I’m really ready for bed.” He shot back up in his chair and chirped in question, “What about you, Konan-kun? Are you feeling sleepy?”

  
Konan was nearly at a loss for patience, “You told me your ridiculous story now answer my question,” she scolded the shinobi. Papers threatening to peel away from her body began ruffling and her brow was lowered in frustration.

  
Tobi jolted in surprise and put his hands up, “Okay! Okay! I’ll tell you! Geez!” Konan relaxed but kept her eyes trained on the man like an eagle’s. The shinobi rearranged himself in his chair again and cleared his throat, “You see, it all has to do with the Rinnegan. Supposedly it was a forbidden gift from the gods and could only be unlocked through the crossing of the Uchiha and Senju bloodlines, which thankfully has never happened.”

  
“But Nagato has the Rinnegan,” Konan mused.

  
“Yes, indeed he does, but they are not his own eyes,” the Uchiha shuffled some papers around idly looking to entertain his short attention span and lack of patience. “Madara’s death was said to have come when he fought Hashirama Senju for the final time. He was able to steal flesh from his arm and set a time-released jutsu on himself to rewrite his death.” He held up two fingers, “He had obtained the two things he needed and grafted the flesh into his wound after he retched it back up.”

  
Konan blanched. “That didn’t actually happen, did it? It sounds disgusting.”

  
“Well naturally, Madara was a ruthless old man, so I don’t really know,” Tobi answered, his own face grimacing in disgust as he thought further into it, “I’m seriously just telling you what he told me. It didn’t work though until he was really old. He was nearly to his death when he unlocked the Rinnegan and _apparently_ ,” he took a deep breath and looked away, guilt splashed onto his features. “Um, _apparently_ , he kidnapped a child with Senju blood and gave him his Rinnegan so he could use him as a pawn, knowing of his own impending demise.”

  
Konan clutched at her cloak, just above her knee and her normally serene expression was rather enraged. “You mean to tell me that you’re using us? You’re using _Nagato_ and you used the _Akatsuki_ ,” she thundered, standing from his chair and pushing away from the Uchiha’s desk.

  
The scarred man remained oblivious to Konan’s reaction and tampered with the paper closest to him on his desk, observing as the stacks began to flutter with the kunoichi’s rage. “Let’s not fight; not here. I have to say ‘yes’, I _did_ , but now that is no longer what I plan to do. I gave up on that as soon as I came back to this world and decided that I didn’t want anyone else to die needlessly, and I definitely don’t want your comrade to die needlessly, especially if that means his eyes will get into the hands of the creature I’m hunting.

  
“You see, whether we like it or not, you, me, Nagato, the Akatsuki, Kakashi, and the rest of this world are in this now, so my resolve is to prevent it from happening. That is why I joined the Akatsuki and that is why I have told you this story,” he reported with remarkable, eerie calm. “I want to help bring peace and keep your comrade safe. That is why I’m here.”

  
Konan’s papers shuffled back into her form but her stance spoke volumes on how weary she was towards the other shinobi. Somehow she knew that he had to be sincere. What man that spoke of peace actually worked the economy and pushed it into something greater or gave people options or went out of his way to help little old ladies and children, despite wearing his mask? Tobi was definitely different than the rest of the Akatsuki. He had heart and believed in their cause for peace. Konan could imagine what would have happened if Tobi hadn’t have swooped in and convinced Nagato to stay on the path to peace by negotiation after Yahiko’s death because it hurt her as well.

  
“Konan-kun, I’ve lived two lifetimes and I’ve seen a lot of death and I’ve seen my cherished one die and I missed caring for the last of my family as they died in grief. I don’t want anyone else to have to deal with these things. I especially don’t want _children_ to have to deal with these things.” The shinobi stood from his desk and cautiously backed from it, keeping the kunoichi in his direct line of sight without activating his Sharingan.

  
“The reason I told you this story is because I want your help in making this a better world, not to plunge everyone into a poisonous dream. You can protect Nagato and stay by his side and we can bring the nations together to prevent war from occurring ever again,” he stated with a soft grin and held out his hand to shake, “What do ya say?”

  
Konan scrutinized the offered hand and finally deemed the Uchiha worthy. She picked her way over and gingerly shook the offered hand. The Uchiha grinned in such a way that his eyes crinkled and he hummed happily, “Thank you, Konan-kun! From now on, I will let you in on everything that’s going on.”

  
Konan shot him a look that meant that he obviously better stick to that and her own curiosity struck once more, “Are you going to tell me your real name?”

  
The Uchiha flushed and they pulled their hands apart. He rubbed the back of his head with a nervously chuckle, “Um, it’s Obito. Obito Uchiha.”

  
“I’ve never heard of you,” Konan stated brashly.

  
Obito sighed and pouted for a moment before huffing childishly and crossing his arms, “Yeah, whatever. I don’t go around telling everyone my name, just in case they come running to me for autographs or something one day or start stealing my stuff for their unyielding obsessions for the future bringer-of-peace.”

  
“I find that unlikely. That’s a terrible excuse,” Konan muttered.

  
“Nonetheless! It cannot be helped,” he said in enthused exaggeration, “A hero doesn’t always have to share his name and on that note, I really hate this office. I’m exhausted. It’s seriously time for me to say ‘good night’.”

  
At this point, Konan just went with it, not understanding why the Uchiha kept bouncing back and forth between emotions.

  
“So anyways, Konan-kun, time for bed,” he chirped happily, he gave a curt, bow and gestured towards the door. Konan followed his gesture as the man clicked off the lamp, plunging them into absolute darkness. Thankfully, it was a straight shot to the door and neither of them tripped over themselves or the numerous desks in the office suite.

  
Konan had reached the door and had just opened the handle when she heard the Uchiha whisper, “Sleep well, Konan-kun.” Immediately following his sentiment, all sign of the Uchiha was gone and she was left in the darkness, wondering what exactly the Uchiha had planned and if perchance he had spoken the truth or not. Either way, she was going to protect her comrade, her family, to her last breath despite the tale the Uchiha had foretold. At least she had a name to link him to and do her own digging into the truth because she had a feeling the road ahead was just as – if not darker than – this hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that had a small twist to it, which I kind of expected however I hope I can write fast enough because it feels like it just got a life of its own. I'm hoping to add more about why he's in Akatsuki, 'again' I might add, but today... is not that day. We're going to get there, don't worry! 
> 
> This version is currently unbeta'd. If you spot something or just want to chat a little about the current chapter or previous chapters, shoot me a comment and I'd be glad to accept your criticism! Thank you!


	4. Sweet Dreams Are Made of Dango

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That was a bad dream! There's only one way to fix that, sweets, well, maybe? If Obito HAD any.

Obito jolted awake, his mind racing, almost throbbing with all the thoughts swirling through his mind like they were determined to force their way out and make his head burst. His breathing was frantic, his heart thudded loudly in his chest, and he was tangled in his bedsheets, clutching at them with a white knuckled grip. Shudders of fear and the jitters of paranoia ran through his fatigued, sleep deprived body causing his eyes to light up with glowing red and scan the room for threats. _Nothing_. It was just another nightmare.

He lay awake in bed trying to determine whether he wanted to risk going back to sleep or suffer and leave the comfort of his warm bed. His breathing had returned to normal and his body wasn’t quivering in terror so there seemed no point in getting up. He glanced up the clock on the far wall and huffed. It was nearly three in the morning. He had only slept nearly two and a half hours after he had abandoned Konan and to be honest, he felt he probably deserved the restlessness.

“Ugh. No sugar before bed,” he groaned curling up further into the bedsheets. The man maneuvered to try and get comfortable again, pulling the blanket up from around his legs to cover himself and nestle soundly into it. He sighed dreamily and nuzzled the ridiculously fuzzy, orange blanket only to find himself too jittery to sleep. He huffed in annoyance and sat up in the bed, draping the blanket over his shoulders and yawning thunderously in the tiny quarters.

The Uchiha decided to get up and do something, _anything_ to calm himself down. He could meditate but he didn’t quite feel like meditating. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why, but after experiencing one of his night terrors, he decided he didn’t want to stay in the tiny room for very much longer. Food helped and interacting with other people helped, but mainly Deidara. Obito quite enjoyed watching the blond man boil over with rage at his remarks and quips towards the artist. World domination and death couldn’t change that and the Iwa nin’s reactions were infinitely more satisfying than Kakashi’s, though he never had been able to quite pull the wool over the arrogant prodigy’s eye. At this point though, the artist was likely asleep but most of the Akatsuki kept strange hours regardless of that. Food it is then.

Obito got dressed in record time, forgoing his cloak and wearing his black clothing instead. It would warm quickly to his skin, thankfully. On a cool autumn night, you needed warm clothes.

The determined shinobi went into the kitchen with the intent to raid it of sugary goodness. He checked the cupboards and was greeted by a loaf of bread and various knickknacks. Really? What kind of dinglehopper is this? With dissatisfaction marring his face behind his mask he shut the door and moved on to the pantry. There were no sugary snacks to be found. He narrowed his eyes, glaring heatedly at the shelves of boxes and can neatly organized and obviously _mocking him_ and his lack of junk food. He stood there for a moment, trying to shoot lasers or some version of Itachi’s Amaterasu to destroy the evil dry goods, but unfortunately, he was limited to one awesome eye ability. He slammed the pantry shut almost forceful and snarled angrily before whipping around and checking the fridge.

“Fish. Meat. Something that looks like clay, or something? Ew, _broccoli_. Milk,” he lifted his mask and whiffed it quickly, gagging. “Even more disgusting!” He closed the door, removing the rotten milk and indifferently depositing it in the trash can. Obito was frustrated, he _knew_ they had to have junk food around there somewhere, but where? He crossed his arms and tapped his foot as he contemplated what he should do to get his fix, as if he was addicted to a narcotic. In his defense, having a considerable sweet tooth ran in the Uchiha family, yet it didn’t make them any sweeter, unfortunately.

The gears turned and clicked into place, unlocking a brilliant idea, _he could bake something_. It had been ages, well not that long, but it had been a lengthy amount of time since he had baked anything at all. He could remember the first time he had baked anything, enthusiastically ‘helping’ his kindly grandmother around the kitchen. She had allowed him to help by pouring in ingredients, getting to be the taster, and to stand around squinting at the oven as if it would speed up the process. He chuckled softly in his reminiscing. It would have been so much cleanlier if Obito hadn’t helped his granny with her chores, but he assumed that he got his fondness for helping people from that and the warm, open heart that his granny had possessed. Yes, he was much like her in his youth and oh how far he had veered from that path since then. That time was seemingly a lifetime ago.

It was settled; he was definitely going to bake something sweet! Hopefully, that’d get his mind off of the darkness and monsters and junk food-thieving co-workers. Although, it was possible he had eaten it all before he went to bed, but a box of cookies or two, or possibly half a dozen, wasn’t really that concerning, even if he had conveniently forgotten. Regardless of the fact he should have a raging stomachache, determination flared within the ex-Konoha nin, blazing within him, pushing towards his ambition, to bake sweets!

Obito grinned and rushed to the fridge to grab… he paused. “Damn it. I need milk,” he grumbled haplessly, still trifling through the fridge to check for ingredients. He pouted and huffed as he backed out of the fridge, “No, I need everything!” He grunted in frustration and muttered angrily to himself before he made a mental checklist on what he would need, recalling a shop that was open around the clock.

The Uchiha decided it couldn’t be helped and went to his room to grab his cloak and fastened it on before searching around for his wallet. It had to be in his room somewhere! After several minutes of searching, he came up emptyhanded. He whimpered disdainfully, but you don’t understand, Tobi is sweet so Tobi _needs_ sweets to obtain his sweet, perky persona. Dango and cakes definitely worked better than coffee or tea, of any variety, even the foreign black tea that he had grown fond of.

The shinobi decided to backtrack and extend his search perimeter further into the base. He wandered around, looking under tables, digging within cushions, and searching every nook, corner, and cranny. The Uchiha pouted more prominently, “Oooooh! I need to find my wallet!”

“Tobi, what the hell are you doing, un,” a blond grumbled from behind him, surprising the Uchiha which caused the masked man to hit his head against the top of the dining room table.

The masked man sat up and rubbed the top of his injured skull and sniffled exaggeratedly before directing his attention to the ex-Iwagakure shinobi. “Ah, senpai! Er, Tobi lost his wallet,” he muttered softly, reverting back to ‘giant man-child’ mode around the blond man.

 _Tobi’s senpai_ crossed his arms over his chest and scoffed, “Is it the one sitting on the kitchen counter from earlier?”

 _Tobi’s_ eyes lit up and the masked man leapt off the floor and in the blink of an eye, he returned with the small brown leather wallet, worn around the corners with age and years of riding around in the Uchiha’s pocket. “Thank you, senpai! You’re such a good senpai; the _best_ senpai,” _Tobi_ cried with glee, rushing over to hug the shorter blond man who immediately went on the defensive.

“Touch me and you’re dead,” he hissed, effectively repelling the masked man. The blond relaxed and raised a brow in annoyance, “What the hell are you doing up so late and looking for your wallet? All of your running around has put Master Sasori in a sour mood and unlike you, I have to room with him, un. I’d rather not experience his temper, Tobi.”

 _Tobi_ tilted his head and observed the blond shinobi before he happily quipped up, “Sorry, Deidara-senpai! Tobi wanted to go shopping to make dango!” He grinned vibrantly behind his mask and added, “Because dango is sweet just like Tobi, but Tobi also wants to make cakes because Tobi is a _good_ boy, senpai!”

Deidara groaned, “It’s too late to be so loud, idiot. You already woke me up, un, but I think I’d like some dango to make up for it.” Obito noticed that the blond was in a grey shirt, black sweatpants, and his Akatsuki robe, hurriedly put over the top. He made note to avoid Sasori as well.

“Will senpai help me shop,” _Tobi_ asked softly, pleading, “please senpai? I’ll make you dango too!” Obito only went out when it was absolutely necessary, especially since he was so uncomfortable about the way people stared at him. You could probably attribute it to anxiety or paranoia or whatever you’d like, but whenever he left the hideout and was around people, he’d still try to put on a good façade and be just as courteous and attentive as ever but the feeling that people would see his face and shun him in terror or that they would recognize him as the man that tried to destroy the world, well, that feeling never went away, just like the feeling of eyes burning into him wherever he went. He didn’t sweat that one so much though because he’d eventually remedy that _problem_.

Deidara glanced behind him, back in the directions of the Akatsuki dorms, then back to Tobi. He seemed to be weighing his options. Which one was the worse evil, an angry Sasori trying to work, or a socially inept man-child that can’t shop by himself without causing some kind of issue (usually embarrassment on Deidara’s part)? “So you mentioned dango, un,” Deidara mused, his lip twitching as if he wasn’t sure whether to grin and bear it or he wanted to blow something up. Possibly both.

“Yup.”

“Hmph. Alright, I’ll go, but _I’m_ in charge,” Deidara commanded with ease and began heading for the stairwell door with _Tobi_ happily trailing behind him.

By the time they made it down Pein’s Tower and to the grocery, it was about a quarter past the hour. Tobi gazed at the flashing neon sign stating ‘open’ in bright kanji, the red and blue light shining and blinking over his mask that hid his discomfort and alarm. The blond glanced at the taller man, annoyed with his hesitation.

“Tobi, what are you waiting for, un? We made it here, so let’s go already,” he groaned with a scowl.

The Uchiha just stood there idly. “Go… inside, senpai,” he murmured questionably, paling and unsure.

“That’s why we’re here, isn’t it, idiot,” Deidara growled, beginning to lose his patience with the orange-masked man. He had already been woken up by the obnoxious shinobi’s antics and was more than ready to wash his hands of him. The only reasons he even ventured out were firstly, to avoid Danna’s temper and secondly, he rather enjoyed a warm meal that he didn’t have to pay for, even if he wasn’t overly fond of sweets. He personally preferred savory meals and spicy, enticing dishes, his favorite meal being bakudan.

 _Tobi_ became flustered and shuddered before shakily answering, “O-Okay, senpai.” He timidly followed Deidara into the store, slipping in the door before it could close on him. It wasn’t an act, oh no! Obito was a people person. People liked him for his ability to keep up a conversation and smile so brightly that the clouds of gloom dissipated into nothingness. That wasn’t really the case now that he had gotten older. He may be in his thirties in this lifetime, and maybe he went through another lifetime already, but he never went shopping and he always worried about people seeing his hideously scarred face and prosthetics. He wasn’t exactly easy on the eyes anymore and coupled with not having gone shopping in years, since joining the Akatsuki, a little anxiety was called for. Well, that and he was still worried that somehow people would discover who he was.

The bells above the door chimed whimsically and a clerk looked up from her unpacking, failing when she saw the pair. Deidara calmly carried on, taking notice but more determined to get the Uchiha out of the store. Tobi stood stock-still as the clerk approached.

“Good evening, Mask-san,” the clerk greeted, bowing in acknowledgement causing the shinobi to bow back, albeit, unspeaking. “I apologize,” she stated softly, “but it’s not permitted to wear your mask inside the store. I’m going to have to ask you to, um, take it off?”

Tobi flinched slightly. Off? Take the mask _off_? “Er, sorry! Um, _Tobi_ is a good boy,” he chimed, pointing to himself with his raised thumb. “Tobi won’t do naughty things, but he wears the mask because Tobi isn’t nearly as pretty as you, _Ten’in-san_!”

The young sales person flushed and crossed her arms stubbornly. “I’m sorry, but you have to take it off. It’s the rules, Mask-san,” she said more firmly, making the Uchiha’s flirtation fall flat.

The Uchiha stared at the tiny sales clerk for a moment, making her bristle with nervousness. Deidara turned back and watched the exchange, raising his eyebrow with interest, observing the masked man with anticipation. Would he do it? He decided to push him, “Just take off the damn mask, Tobi, un!”

The Uchiha turned to look at the blond, pouting behind his orange mask. He imagined himself slapping the blond like he himself has been assaulted by the ex-Iwa shinobi. He huffed in displeasure and bowed again to the cute store clerk. “Okay! I’ll be right back,” he chirped and headed back out the entry door.

Deidara groaned in disgust and followed after the orange masked man. _Annoying masked idiot! Why did I bother?_

He searched the sidewalk for the man, but he wasn’t outside the immediate storefront. “Tobi? Tobi where the hell did you go, un,” he snarled in frustration, not wanting to put in much effort. He heard the sound of a jutsu activating around the corner of the building and immediately rounded it in curiosity, only to see the back of Tobi’s dark head with no sign of a strap wrapping around it. His breath stilled. The blond had been curious to know what the masked man’s face looked like ever since he had met the guy. Now seemed to be the moment of truth.

“Tobi,” he murmured, beholding the previously masked man.

 _Tobi_ whipped around to face the blond, a grin plastered on his lips. “Hey, senpai! How do I look,” he beamed, rubbing the back of his head in nervousness. Only, there were no horrendous scars or even black Uchiha eyes. He had used a transformation jutsu.

“If you look like that, why’d you hide you face to begin with, un? It seems rather pointless,” Deidara stated blandly. He could hardly blink as he absorbed the man’s expression and gorgeously effeminate facial features.

Tobi screwed up his face and pouted, “Well, actually, funny story, senpai. This… isn’t Tobi’s face.” The corner of his lips twitched, the small mole above his chin making the expression on the borrowed visage appear endearing and somewhat adorable. Especially with clear blue eyes.

Deidara suspected he wouldn’t be winning that argument with Hidan. “Okay… why the face then, un?”

Tobi looked pensive for a moment, making Deidara feel even more suspicious, “A good tradesman never reveals his secrets. I can’t tell you.” He beamed once more at the blond who became increasingly more annoyed.

“Fine whatever, Tobi. Let’s just get this over with. I want to go home, un,” the blond snarled, leading the taller man back into the store. He wasn’t disappointed, well, too much. He’d find out what the man looked like eventually.

 _Tobi_ waved cheerfully at the tiny store clerk and picked up a hand basket, “’Kay, senpai! Let’s shop!” The pair wandered through the store, the masked man picking up the ingredients he needed for his baking spree. The store was relatively small so it shouldn’t have taken very long, but Deidara was rather amused by the turn of events.

“I didn’t know you could bake, or cook at all for that matter, un,” Deidara remarked as the other man compared brands of rice flour.

The other man raised an eyebrow but didn’t turn around, too preoccupied to take a gander at his companion’s expression. “Why’s that, senpai? I’m a great cook,” the Uchiha murmured, the pitch slightly lowered from his _Tobi_ persona.

“Because you’re usually an idiot, un,” the blond stated bluntly.

Obito held in his laughter and steeled his face, “Ah, but being an idiot in one thing leaves Tobi more room to think about other things, senpai!” He carefully deposited one of the bags into his hand basket and smirked at the blond who was caught off-guard by the masked man’s cleverness.

Deidara rolled his eyes, “Whatever. How’d you learn how to cook then, un?” “I learned a long time ago, but I pick up things here and there,” he answered vaguely as they went down the aisle, stealthily snagging a bag of katakuriko without pausing down the aisle and slipping it into the basket.

“ _Funny_ ,” Deidara remarked begrudgingly, catching on with the masked man’s humor. Tobi and puns went hand-in-hand.

 _Tobi_ stopped and tapped his chin as if in thought, humming. “Should I make cakes for breakfast, senpai?”

“Only if you want to be the one making them, un. I don’t think anyone else can cook, just you, unfortunately,” Deidara replied. Tobi popped a bag of regular flour into the basket. “Why’d you learn how to cook, un? Don’t they usually just teach girls?”

 _Tobi_ hummed and glanced over his shoulder at the blond, “Isn’t that a little rude to say, senpai?” The taller man frowned and raised a brow, waiting for the ex-Iwa nin’s response.

“What? No, I didn’t mean that. One of my teammates couldn’t cook anything without burning it, un. I suspect she still can’t,” Deidara belted back at the Uchiha. “My question is why you _wanted_ to learn. Cooking isn’t exactly very _cool_ , un,” he inquired more softly.

“Oh! Tobi can answer that, senpai,” _Tobi_ chirped as they rounded a corner, passing by another store clerk. “Well, senpai, think of it like your art,” he stated, much to Deidara’s chagrin. The blond gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, his eyes livid in his fury, but before he could reprimand the Uchiha, he cut in, “Cooking and baking are kind of like your art too, they’re um…” He snapped his fingers as he fished for the word, “Ah! Fleeting! I like to cook because you can make it different every time and it’s beneficial, oh and Tobi likes sweets! _Tobi_ is sweet!” He purred and went onto the next aisle to get syrup and jams for the cakes. It was amazing how understocked they were. He wondered what his comrades planned to do with the food in fridge and cupboards, but it was best not to ponder that. They had servants anyways that could cook on a different floor, so maybe that was the plan?

Deidara calmed down and huffed away his excess anger as he chewed over that new bit of information and mumbled something, probably swearing before he responded, “I guess you’re right, but that remains to be seen! An artist is _proud_ of his art and I’ve never seen you cook, un.”

The Uchiha shrugged, “I guess you’ll have to see then, eh, senpai?”

The pair finished up shortly after that, Tobi carrying all the bags on his own whilst holding the receipt in his hand, making concerned sounds while Deidara hummed and chuckled in amusement. “Maybe you’ll think twice about being ‘Mister Nice Guy’ next time, un,” he smirked at the Uchiha.

“Ugh… senpai, I think Kakuzu might just kill me,” the masked man said deflatedly, his arms laden with bags of ingredients and snacks. He hung his head, his expression once again unreadable behind his mask.

“I never spend anything on them, un. At least Kakuzu probably won’t chase you for spending your own money, Tobi,” the blond remarked.

“Yeah,” the masked man sighed. “Wait, what do you mean, _probably_?!”

The pair managed to make it back, without being mauled by tentacled misers, to Tobi’s relief and Deidara’s amusement. The moment they had gotten to the dormitory floor of Pein’s Tower, Tobi slipped off his cloak and got to work. He began by un-bagging all of his ingredients as Deidara took up residence by the door.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to take your mask off, Tobi,” he mused as the masked man hunted for a steamer. He knew there was one in this kitchen somewhere.

“I wouldn’t be Tobi if I took off the mask, senpai. For all you know, the mask is ‘Tobi’ and I am no one but a ‘masked’ man,” the Uchiha stated, pulling out a steamer and setting it on the counter before getting to work.

“That’s a stupid reason, un,” the teen fumed, crossing his arms and watching as the Uchiha began the process of bringing out all the equipment and tools he needed.

Obito contained his own annoyance but enjoyed the company, although it made him long for Kakashi’s presence. Deidara was the second best option to get him out of his current funk. He was scolding, scrutinizing, brash, and called him names, kind of like Kakashi, but Kakashi wasn’t outright violent towards him like Deidara could be when pushed far enough. Being homesick wouldn’t do though. The Uchiha sighed and went back to the mostly uncovered groceries, pulling out a can of oden among the junk food.

Deidara’s eyes lit up in wonder as the Uchiha handed it to him, the mouth on his left hand grinning, unable to contain its amusement just as its host hadn’t. “I got that for you since it’s going to take me a while and I didn’t really get much of anything else to cook for today,” the Uchiha stated sincerely.

“Ah, thanks, un?”

The Uchiha grinned behind his mask and nodded in acknowledgement, heading back to his work. It took a while, but eventually the dango was finished and setting off to the side. Obito had started the cakes which sizzled away in the pan while he waited to flip it over. He stood at the island in the middle of the kitchen, propping his chin on his hand as he waited, watching Deidara swirl the remaining liquid in the bowl he had heated his oden in with his pair of plain vinyl chopsticks.

“I’m glad Sasori doesn’t eat,” Tobi murmured, breaking the silence. Deidara glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “He would not be happy, senpai, because this is taking _forever_ ,” he groaned.

Deidara scoffed, “Art can’t be rushed, un.” They both grinned, remembering their earlier conversation. This was the best interaction Obito had had with any of the other Akatsuki members, which made him kind of feel like a dick for having pestered Deidara all the time in his previous lifetime (and this one, but what can you do), even if his partnership with Deidara was rather short. On that note, he was rather glad Deidara hadn’t questioned his constant use of the term ‘senpai’ to refer to the blond even though he was obviously older than the ex-Iwagakure shinobi.

Obito flipped the cake in the pan and went back to his chat with the blond teen. The darkness of his anxiety and night terror had faded for now and he was grateful that he didn’t have to be all that lonesome so far away from home and the people he wanted to protect from the future of his world. Maybe he’d see them again once he cleared all of this up?

The duo heard the tell-tale signs that one of the other Akatsuki members was coming out from their slumber. They waited with bated breath to see who it’d be and fell into deathly silence. There weren’t many members of Akatsuki who’d willingly awaken this early as it was only about six in the morning, so it was a sour game they were playing to begin with.

A silver head popped in, hair sticking up in every direction, the albino priest yawning loudly, indifferent to the fact that all he wore were his pajama bottoms. Damn it, not _Hidan_.

“What the hell are you doing up,” he growled, sleepy eyes glancing around the kitchen and landing on the stack of cakes on the island beside Tobi. He suddenly seemed more awake and smirked.

Deidara scowled from his spot and hissed, “Don’t even think about it, un! I helped, so they’re mine!”

Hidan turned to look at the blond and chuckled, “Oh yeah, _pipsqueak_?”

“Yeah, that’s right, _grease-head_ ,” Deidara growled, ready to pounce and attack at a moment’s notice.

Hidan cocked his head at the blond and cawed, “Ha! I’ll forgive you this once, but I’m going to get those pancakes, Deidara- _chan_.”

“Hey, hey,” Tobi broke in, waving to get their attention, “there’s enough for everybody! Tobi is a good boy and thought of Hidan-san too!” Deidara glared at Tobi in disbelief that plainly stated ‘ _traitor_ ’.

Hidan hummed victoriously and turned away from the blond to set his sights on the masked man. “Hey _glory hole_ , I didn’t know you could cook,” the priest boomed brashly. Trust Hidan to get to the point.

 _Glory hole?_ Obito cringed and felt rather annoyed with the vile Jashinst, but kept up the façade of the happy-go-lucky Tobi. He waved his spatula and chuckled, “Tobi wanted to surprise his senpais!”

Hidan didn’t really look amused, in fact, as per the usual, he didn’t out rightly care at all. He went forward and grabbed the plate of cakes, much to Deidara’s disappointment, and went off with the golden stack into the dining room, snatching up the syrup with him. He didn’t even bother to grab a utensil.

Deidara huffed and glared at Tobi whom just shrugged, “I’ll make you more, senpai. Sorry!” That was the best apology the blond was going to get out him. It’s not like he couldn’t fend the Jashinist off and tell him so, but he’d rather keep up his guise as Akatsuki’s masked idiot. He ducked down behind the island and crouched there in between cooking his cakes. He heard the blond sigh, but at least the silence was calm and not filled with tensions as they had been. Hopefully the rest of the day would go more smoothly, but he didn’t see that as much of a possibility, considering what he had seen in the reports he had gotten back last night. He had to look into that today. It was ‘ _how_ ’ that was the real question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so that was longer than expected but it turned out pretty well. I really liked Obito's fondness for sweets and I felt like a little bit of lightness and Deidara would make this all the more sweeter. Also, Ten'in means clerk or store clerk and obviously, you can probably tell whose faces he used to disguise himself there. Oh yeah. More to come soon. 
> 
> This chapter is unbeta'd and I know I didn't catch everything, regrettably, so shoot me a message if you spot something hinky! Thank you and enjoy!

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, this is my first story on here and I hope it doesn't look too bad. I've been toying with this idea for ages! I just adore Obito and I think he'd be a great friend to Konan and the others in AKatsuki, minus all the psychotic 'I am MADARA! BWAHAHAHA!' going on in that head of his. Anyways, I do plan to add more chapters and the rest of the Akatsuki and Kakashi will be in there at some point. But hush hush for now! 
> 
> Also, this is unbeta'd. If you spot anything, leave me a comment! Thanks!


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